Chapter 10

Ten

W alter

I followed Dane into the house with my coffee mug and cake plate, which gave my hands something to do rather than give in to the itch to touch him again.

I'd held his hand. I had to, wrong as it was to cross that line. I had to know he was real. I'd had a dream at one point in the few hours I'd spent in my truck, that he was actually a ghost and I was caught talking to myself at work and put on administrative leave.

My worst fear and greatest hope were converging, and I was curious which one would prevail.

"Oh my fucking God. Dane!" Ryan stood in the foyer with his keys in one hand and the other clutched at his chest. "You scared the fuck out of me! Kal woke up and said you were gone and we freaked out."

"I'm sorry," Dane said, blinking his big green eyes. "I was taking the detec—Walter his breakfast." He turned and gave me a coy smile. "I'm glad you're up, though, because me and him are going to try to come up with a game plan, and I'd love your input."

Ryan frowned, and then raised his eyebrows as if he'd just had a revelation."Sure. Whatever you need."

Kal rushed into the foyer and stopped short when he saw us."Oh good. Dee Dee. I was afraid you'd left. Look, when I went into your room… I didn't mean to snoop, but I found this on the floor, sticking out of the bag." Kal held up an old Ouija board.

Dane smiled and started to speak, but Ryan snatched it out of his hand.

"Where the fuck did you get this?"

I stepped closer to Dane at the tone in Ryan's voice. I was willing to give the guy the benefit of the doubt about his history, but he was not going to talk to Dane like that.

"What do you mean? I…" Dane squeezed his eyes shut and winced. He put a hand to his head and blinked a few times. "I got it at a yard sale when I was a kid. These two older ladies who lived together down by the general store… they had all kinds of witchy stuff."

"That's not possible," Ryan said. "This board belonged to my best friend Gavin. He got it from his auntie's house." He flipped it over and cursed again. "I know it's his because it's got this burn mark on the back from where he almost set it on fire one night. There's no way?—"

" Ry -an." Kal put a hand on his chest. "Remember what Gavin's aunt said. ‘It goes where it's needed.'"

Ryan scowled at him, and then stared back at Dane and seemed to realize he needed to calm the fuck down. He handed the board to Dane but seemed reluctant to let it go.

"This is all the more reason we need to help him," Kal said softly to Ryan, rubbing his shoulders. He looked at us soberly. "Why don't we all sit down and figure this out?"

He put his arm around Ryan and led him into the living room, whispering softly as they walked.

"You okay?" I asked Dane.

He frowned but didn't appear shaken."This might look like a typical Ouija board, but I always swore it was spelled. It could do things… it shows me things. It's not just a way to communicate with the spirits." He ran his fingers over the edge of the board. "I've been through a lot with this board, but I never considered it might not only belong to me. Come on. I'll show you how it works."

"You forget, I saw it work before."

He turned and grinned. "That's right! Little Walter. Were you this serious back then? Were you ever a Wally?"

I put my hand on his back and gave him a little push as he laughed some more."No. Junior, but not Wally."

"That's adorable ," he said.

"Adorable. Okay." I shook my head. Not at all how I wanted to be seen, although it seemed to amuse him, so how could I take that away? He needed some amusement right now.

Dane set the board down on the coffee table, and he looked at Ryan and Kal as we both took a seat on the couch.

It looked like the board was all one piece, not foldable like the typical board-game style of Ouija boards I'd seen in the past. It was made of some sort of particle board and the face of it was yellowed with age. There were the opposites—sun and moon, yes and no, hello and goodbye—the letters and numbers, and in the bottom corners, there were illustrations of a woman from different angles reaching for the planchette, with an eerie face coming out of the shadows behind her.

The name William Fuld and a Maryland address were stamped across the bottom, along with a patent number. It gave me the creeps, but Dane seemed totally comfortable with it. I was curious, though, how he could have been in possession of it all this time, and yet Ryan claimed his best friend had it.

On top of it was a wooden triangle-shaped item with one rounded side and a hole in the narrow portion with a glass or clear plastic insert. It didn't look as old as the board, but that didn't mean anything.

"You said your friend had this board?"

Ryan nodded. "Gavin. He's… no longer with us."

"I'm so sorry," Dane said, his green eyes bright with emotion. "I do absolutely believe this board could have been in both places. Kal, you know what it's like there… at the carnival? How time is different?"

Kal chewed on a fingernail and frowned."Yes, I recall. It could have… traveled." He placed a hand on Ryan's thigh. "I've also seen some inexplicable things happen with it. There was one time, on the tour bus last year, I saw an orb of light come in through the window and it rested above the board on the shelf." He turned to Ryan. "I don't know if I ever told you that. It was unaffected by any shadows, wasn't caused by any reflections. It moved on some sort of extraordinary trajectory."

Ryan had his arms folded over his chest, but he loosened them and let them fall to his lap, taking Kal's hand. "Yeah, and when I was at Gavin's aunt's, the board showed up in my bag. I swore it was on the bus with Hush still. When I touched the planchette… I saw the past."

"Right!" Dane grew more animated the more they talked. "It's wild, right? When I brought it home from the old ladies' sale, I had to hide it. My mom was cool with crystals and stuff, but she was an atheist, and that meant no spiritualism of any kind in our house. My grandparents were super-strict Christians. We didn't see them very often, as you can imagine."

Diane had mentioned both her atheism and her upbringing at various times over the years, so I wasn't surprised by that fact.

"But you know, I was curious what would happen, right? I knew you were supposed to do it with two people, but I didn't have a lot of friends my age, none of them were around in the summers either. This would have been shortly before I met Tess and everyone. I was fifteen, I think? Anyway, I waited 'til Mom was at a gallery showing and I pulled out the board. I remember it was a full moon. I sat in front of our big windows with all the lights off and set the board on the floor. At first, nothing happened. I sat there for a long time, until I finally blurted out ‘what's the deal with this board?' And do you know what? It showed me."

Ryan and Kal were leaning in, like me, hanging on Dane's every word.

"The words just came to me. It went something like this…

"You can get lost

You can be found

You can exist underground

You can bring joy

You can cause pain

You can start your life all over again

You can do magic

You can stop evil

You can run like mad from the devil

But you can't change your soul

You can't change your fate

And you can't escape from the mess you create

Only you can know

What there is to see

Only you can save you"

As Dane recited the words, recognition hit me. "That was… That song was on your first album. I've never heard that explanation in any of your interviews."

Dane laughed at me."Of course not, silly. The only one who knew about the board was Tess." He looked at Ryan. "Look, I wrote my own songs, but sometimes I used the board for inspiration. I don't know where the words come from, but the board helped me out of a rut a few times. It wound up at the carnival with me, and when they asked me what I could do for an act on the circuit, I thought, well, I can write poems."

"When Gavin used it, he said he was talking to his great uncle Heinrich."

Dane shrugged. "It is what it needs to be for each person, I guess." His shoulders sank a bit and he lost some of his momentum. "I guess that's what happened that last night at the carnival."

"How do you mean?" Ryan asked.

Dane rubbed his hands together. "I never used the board with anyone else. Only I ever touched the planchette. But when that guy came to my booth, he was impatient with me. He couldn't wait for me to get started, and before I knew what he was doing, he put his hands on the planchette with me and then we were both in my memory. He wanted to see what happened to me. The bad thing. That's the only way I can think of to explain what happened."

His face paled, and he took in a shaky breath.

"That would mean he already knew what happened to you," I said, a sick feeling rolling through me at the confirmation of my fear. "That he knew who you were."

Dane glanced at Ryan and Kal."I guess that's possible, but how?"

I shrugged. "Plenty of folks are interested in society's murderous past. Why do you think shows and podcasts about serial killers are so popular?"

"Serial killers? Podcasts? What are you talking about?"

I sighed. "Right. Sorry, Dane. Do you recall how people reacted to the Manson killings?"

"Sure I do." He shuddered. "That was awful. Tess had to call the police once to get some of the Family people off her property. She was terrified when the murders happened a few weeks later, just up the road, and they showed the suspects on TV. She recognized some of them. We were all freaked out. What if they would have come back? Gone after any of us? My mom bought a gun, she was so afraid. That was kind of the beginning of the end of things up here. People started talking about leaving."

"Cases like Manson's, and killers like Ed Kemper, who killed hitchhikers up in Santa Cruz, and others that happened after your abduction have become quite popular. Millions of Americans listen to podcasts—which are recorded conversations on different topics—and watch documentaries on TV about them. There are even TV shows about missing persons and cold cases."

"Like me?"

I nodded. "There have been at least two TV shows about your case that I know of. There were a few persons of interest, but there was also a show that hypothesized you'd disappeared to start a new life somewhere."

Dane's face crumpled. "Oh no. Did my mom see it?"

I nodded. "She did, but she didn't believe it."

He nodded solemnly. "I'd hate for her to think I walked away from her. Despite some of our epic fights, I never would have deserted her. We were all we had." He blew out a shaky breath, and I was tempted to hold his hand again, give him some sort of tether to the here and now.

"You said you left the carnival to stop this guy from hurting people," Kal said. "What if using the board can help you do that?"

Dane shrank into the couch and stared at the board like it might attack. "I know I should at least try. It was just so awful. I never had nothing like that happen before."

"I can imagine," Kal said, offering Dane a sad smile. "When my memory came back, it was so hard. I remembered that my uncle, who was a charlatan, fled town and left me to be beaten nearly to death by an angry mob. He ran fake cancer clinics that lied to families about curing their sick relatives. Mr. Ame found me in a frozen ditch in Iowa. I relived that beating when it came back to me. It was awful, but Ryan and his friends helped me move forward, and eventually I went back to that place and found my sister. In between jobs, I'm working on making a list of people who were hurt by my uncle, and when I've saved up enough money, I'm going to try to do something to find the descendants of those people and help them somehow."

Ryan squeezed his thigh. "We're gonna do it, babe. Me and you."

Kal smiled at him, then turned back to Dane. "That's how I dealt with it, Dee Dee. I don't know if that would work for you, but if it keeps other people from getting hurt, maybe that will help you move forward."

Ryan cleared his throat. "When I used the board and saw the past, it was disorienting. Kinda like sleep paralysis. You're having a dream but you think you're awake, and you can't move? That's what it felt like. Scared the fuck out of me. But I'd do it again if it meant helping someone else."

Dane nodded.

A thought came to me just then. "You can ask the board anything?"

"Sure. The answers don't always make a lot of sense but they're truthful."

I hated to ask this, but I wasn't sure where else to start. "What if you asked it where the killer is now?"

Dane's eyes flared, but he looked at me with interest. "We'd have to be more specific, or it might show us any old killer."

"Hmm. Or if you asked it to show you the man you saw at the carnival, then we could get with a forensic artist, maybe ID him that way."

"That's not a terrible idea, although the thought of going back to that moment makes me want to vomit."

"I understand. I don't want to put you through that trauma again. I do want you to sit with a forensic artist, though. When you're ready."

Kal sat up a little taller. "What about Ryan?"

"What about me?" Ryan said.

"You can draw the sketch. You draw very, um, realistic pictures of people. Maybe you can do it."

"I mean, I usually draw nudes, but I could give it a shot."

"That would be a start, but my detective brain is also trying to figure out how to make sure we do this right. I can't ignore that part of my wiring." I turned to Dane. "What do you think? It might be less intrusive than being at the police department. I'm trying to avoid bringing you in."

"No offense, Detective," Ryan said, "but how the hell are you going to explain his existence to the police? There's no way they're going to buy that he's been missing for forty years and hasn't aged a day."

"Yeah, at least there weren't any pictures of me or anything," Kal said. "No one knew I existed, and Mr. Ame sent me on my way with a billfold and identification. That's why I asked you if he gave you anything else, Dane."

"We're going to have to get you a new ID at some point," I said to Dane.

"But I don't look sixty-seven."

"No, you don't." We'd come full circle. "And I don't know how to deal with that right now."

Dane shook out his hair. "All right. Say I use the board and ask about the guy I saw—it's going to come out in a poem, and that's not going to be real helpful."

"I'll do it with you." Ryan's gaze was steadfast. "Kal's right. I can draw him. Detective, will that work? Can you use a drawing I do, even though I'm not a cop? I did take illustration courses when I was in prison, and we had a forensic artist talk to us once."

"It's a place to start," I agreed.My phone buzzed, this time with a phone call, and I knew better than to ignore it.

"I gotta take this call. Don't do anything 'til I get back."

Dane nodded, and he and Ryan talked quietly as I took the call out on the back patio.

"Detective Muse."

"Jesus, Walter." It was Dax.

"I'm going to get a complex if you guys keep saying Jesus before my name. What's up?"

"What's up? What's up ? You're supposed to be on vacation. What is this shit, you took a call off the tip line? And you didn't think to call me ?"

I sighed. Of my three fellow detectives, Gene was the one who tended to lean toward the woo-woo a little more. Dax was younger, newer, still trying to be by the book—the way I'd trained him. This was going to be tricky.

"I'm sorry, it was the middle of the night. I wasn't thinking?—"

"So who called? What did they say?"

Fuck. "It was the guys that called it in. The one guy, he remembered some other details." I wasn't lying, but it was killing me to not give Dax the whole story. I'd never, ever held back information on a case before. I was walking a thin line.

"Holy shit! Are you going to bring him in?"

"Not yet," I said, and this was where I had to hope that Dax would give me some leeway. "Listen, he's pretty shook up. I can't give you all the details just yet, but I'm going to see if I can get you a description of a possible suspect?—"

"Wait, what ? Walter, you gotta give me more than that. Where are you?"

Shit . "I'm in LA. He's with friends here, and they called the tip line looking for me after they saw the reports on the news. You gave him my card, and obviously the news didn't know I was on vacation, or else it would've gone to you. I'm still getting details from him, but I'll call you as soon as I know more."

"Jesus, Walter! Does he know anything about Dane Donovan?"

"I'm not sure." Now I was over that line. But the more I spoke to Dax, the more I realized I had a solution to the problem. A stretch of the truth might work. I'd have to talk it over with Dane. We'd have to do it just right. "He had a bizarre and disturbing interaction with a patron of the carnival who acted like he knew… Dane. Knew what happened to him. He thought this carnival guy was Dane." All of that was true. This could work.

" Holy shit , Walt. Okay."

I laughed. "You're telling me. I thought I'd seen a ghost when I first saw him. The resemblance is uncanny."

"You mean at the rest area. You tried to tell me?—"

"Right. But this guy is shook up. I'm going to stay with him until he's ready to give a statement, okay? He needs to be protected. I think this guy could come looking for him."

"Wait, so this guy knows who the killer is?"

"I'm still working on that. My best guess? This guy knew about Dane, and what happened to him and where, maybe saw it on the news or one of the documentaries. Dee Dee said the guy was off . Maybe he's a copycat. The driver of the truck, the metal singer? Wells? He's an artist, so they're going to work on a sketch. I'll scan it to you when it's done."

"That's… convenient. How the fuck do these guys know each other?"

"Kal and Dee Dee worked at the same carnival, remember? Ryan and Kal gave him a ride from Vegas. Their alibi checks. They had their ticket stub from the parking lot at the hotel where they were staying in Vegas." Holy shit, the way this was just pouring out of me. I was either fucking this up royally, or this would work. It would all depend on how much Dax trusted me.

"Jesus, Walter," was all he could say again.

"I know. Trust me, I'm saying the same thing. It's been a wild twenty-four hours."

"You gotta call the captain."

Fuck. "I know. I will. Give me another day."

"Where are you staying? You better check in with me every eight hours, Walt. I don't like this."

"I slept in my truck last night. I'll figure something out and I'll let you know. I swear."

"You need someone, you call, okay? I've got PTO too."

"Save it for your family, Dax. I'll be fine. I'll check in." And with that, I turned off my location on my phone. I didn't need Dax showing up down here. It was a shitty thing to do; us four always kept it on for each other.

"Yeah. Okay. Let me know when you've got something solid."

We hung up and I took a deep breath.This had to work. I refused to cause Dane further trauma. He deserved some peace.

And yet, I had to ask him more questions, try to get this sketch done.

I hoped he could forgive me.

Because now that I had him in my sights, I didn't want to let him go.